


Fairytale Gets A Spin

by takemetofantasyland



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Flashbacks of the Romanovs, everything you ever wanted in a hallmark christmas movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takemetofantasyland/pseuds/takemetofantasyland
Summary: Anya is just barely scraping through the holiday season working in a seasonal holiday shop. She muses as she organizes ornaments about what it would be like to celebrate the holidays with a family—one she actually knows. Dmitry takes up a seasonal job in the holiday market to make a little cash on the side while he cooks up a plan to get rich with his partner in crime. Neither of them are enjoying the holiday season, but Anya has a secret that just might bring them together, that is if she can remember.The Hallmark Christmas fic you didn't know you wanted, but are getting anyway.
Relationships: Dimitri | Dmitry/Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanova
Comments: 21
Kudos: 59





	1. Prologue: Once Upon a December

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my 2019 Holiday inspired fic! This year I started a little early to really be able to carve out the story. Starting with a prologue of Anastasia at 17 years old. I hope you enjoy!

“Nana always gets you the prettiest dress, it just isn’t fair,” Maria mused as she gazed at Anastasia’s dress in the full length mirror.

Anastasia stared at herself in the mirror and smoothed her dress as Maria looked over her shoulder. Their grandmother always chose a blue gown for Anastasia, and said it brought out the blue in her eyes and her blonde hair complimented it so well. She would never say it out loud, but she loved the way she looked in blue, her Nana had good taste, and she would never doubt her. 

“Don’t, Mashka, all of our dresses are beautiful,” Anastasia smiled as she turned to her older sister. “And frowning will give you premature wrinkles,” she grinned as she picked her jewelry out of the box on her dresser.

Maria scoffed and rolled her eyes, “now you just sound like Mama.”

Anastasia stuck her tongue out at her sister as Maria rounded her. “You ready?” Maria asked as she picked up the skirt of her champagne gown. 

“Yes,” Anastasia replied as she fastened her earring.

Maria smiled as she headed for the hall. The small click of Maria’s heels as she headed out into the hall made Anastasia smile as she grabbed her clutch purse. 

Maria hurried down the hall and down the stairs to the entryway of the Romanov house. Olga and Tatiana stood patiently by the door for Maria, Anastasia and Alexei. Anastasia paused and smiled as she admired her sisters, each wearing a beautiful gown with her hair pinned perfectly. 

Lily’s Winter Gala was an annual gathering, but somehow everyone still put their best on every year. It warmed Anastasia’s heart during the holidays, and a party thrown by Lily Malevsky would never disappoint. 

“Let’s go! we’re going to get stuck in traffic!” their mother hurried into the front entryway of their home and ushered them out the door.

Alexei hurried down the stairs and into the entryway of the house, he quickly took his place by Anastasia’s side. 

“Let’s go!” Alix repeated as she wrapped her arm around Alexei and led him to the car. 

Their father met them in the entryway, and he smiled kindly at Anastasia. “How does your grandmother know exactly which gown would suit each one of you?” he asked as he looked at Anastasia. 

Anastasia smiled as she took his hand, “I don’t know how she does it, but she always does an amazing job!”

He squeezed her hand as he led her out to the car in the drive of the property.

The daughters each climbed into the stretch limousine their father had hired for the evening. Anastasia crawled in last, her father following closely behind. He nodded to Sergei, and Segei promptly shut the door. 

Nicholas sat beside Anastasia and she clutched her purse so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

“Are you nervous?” Her father asked as he leaned over to her. 

“A little. It’s only all of Nana’s acquaintances who will be in attendance tonight,” she turned to look at her father. “If I’m awful Nana will never hear the end of it.”

“Take a deep breath, you’ll be fine,” Nicholas reassured her. The corners of his lips tugged into a smile. 

Anastasia scrunched her nose as she smiled at him. 

She glanced across the car at her older sister, Tatiana. Tatiana looked so beautiful in her glittering pink gown with her hair pinned up so carefully. Tatiana was adored by so many for her appearance, and she always had people fawning over her at these occasions. 

Sometimes Anastasia was jealous of the attention her sisters got, but other times she was sure it would be overwhelming to her. Olga and Tatiana handled themselves so well, especially with so many of their father’s associates lining up their sons to meet Tatiana and Olga. 

“Right, Nastya?” Olga grinned at her. 

“What?” Anastasia asked. 

“You’re going to dance with Andre tonight,” Tatiana smiled. “Right?”

“Stop it! I told you I don’t like him!” Anastasia retorted. “Like that,” she added. 

She pouted as she looked at Tatiana. Maria drew her hand to her face to hide her smile. 

“Yes but his father,” Tatiana added, motioning her fingers together as if she were holding a bunch of money

“So? I told you I would rather be in love,” Anastasia crossed her arms and slumped in her seat. 

“Andre is a nice boy,” her father added as he leaned over. 

Anastasia’s eyes widened as she turned to look at her father. She knew Andre was the son of one of her father’s closest business partners. 

“I don’t like him, Papa. I wouldn’t dance with him and give him the wrong idea,” Anastasia replied. 

Nicholas shrugged and turned back to his wife. 

Anastasia stuck her tongue out at Olga and Tatiana. Olga rolled her eyes. “There are girls lining up to be with Andre. He wants you, and you don’t even want him,” Olga shook her head. 

“He wants to be connected to the Romanov name,” Anastasia corrected. 

“So what? It’s not a bad thing,” Tatiana shrugged. “If Andre is a nice guy, what’s the problem?”

“Nastya just wants to fall in love,” Maria shot back at her older sister. 

Tatiana shrugged, “happens less often these days,”

“Maybe she knows she wouldn’t be happy with Andre,” Alexei interjected between his sisters. 

Maria smiled and nodded. 

“Enough about Andre!” Anastasia snapped. “I just want to go and have a good time at Lily’s Gala.”

Maria and Anastasia settled into their seats. Alexei gently rested his head on Anastasia’s shoulder. There was still a bit of the drive to go. Anastasia stared out the window, a mixture of excitement and nerves churning in her stomach. 

The limousine blared its horn and the girls snapped to attention as they tried to peer out of the car to see what was going on. 

Anastasia peeked out the car window, but couldn’t see anything. Olga slid the barrier to the driver’s seat open and peeked through to the windshield. The limousine driver blared the horn and slammed on the brakes. 

Olga stumbled in her seat and Tatiana grabbed her arm to steady her. 

“Hey! Sergei!” Olga chided. 

The car jolted as it swerved and Anastasia grabbed Alexei and held onto him. Olga held Tatiana, and Nicholas gently held Anastasia’s shoulder to keep her still. 

Anastasia’s heart raced. Sergei was not usually this harsh at driving. 

The limousine honked its horn again and swerved, and Anastasia wrapped her arms around Alexei and held him close. 

She inhaled as she saw bright headlights flashing into the car and her eyes widened. She braced herself for impact and gripped her father’s hand. 

The last thing she saw was the glass of the limousine window shattering and breaking into the car. She pulled Alexei to her chest and wrapped her arm around him to protect him, while feeling the prickle of shards of glass on her bare shoulders and back. As she held Alexei, they tumbled in the car from the impact. As she went down with Alexei, her head hit the drink cooler on the way down. 

And everything went black. 

* * *

Lily stood in the doorway of Marie Feodorovna’s bedroom as she stared blankly at the tv screen. 

Images flashed over and over of a limousine wreck.

“Marie,” Lily said softly. 

“All of them,” Marie trembled as she sobbed. “All of them are gone, Lily.”

Lily hurried into the room to comfort her, wiping her own tears away. 

She had forgotten the gala happening downstairs, and sat with Marie, gently holding her hand as Marie sobbed into her shoulder. 


	2. Hot Chocolate

Anya’s fingers closed on the doorknob as she pushed the door open to the shop. Her boots crunched in the snow on the front step as she skipped up into the shop and a set of sleigh bells by the door jingled as she entered. With a gust of wind behind her, she pushed the door shut. 

She headed for the storage room in the back of the shop and tossed her bag down. Anya pulled out her name tag and the hat that went with her work uniform, put them on and looked in the mirror. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh. She knew it wasn’t good to start her shift without even the slightest smile, but even that was starting to feel unbearable in the holiday season. 

Anya looked in the mirror in the storage room. It was dull and scratched, but even that couldn’t improve upon the cartoonish nature of her holiday work uniform. It still looked silly. She straightened her skirt and headed into the shop. 

“Oh, good morning Anya,” Celeste greeted her. 

“Morning,” Anya muttered as she took her place behind the counter. 

Celeste was taking inventory of tree ornaments and turned over her shoulder to look at Anya. Suddenly, her face lit up and she gestured to a large box behind the counter. 

“Could you organize these new ornaments that came in the shipment overnight?” Celeste asked. 

“Sure,” Anya sighed. 

Working in a seasonal holiday shop was not Anya’s ideal way to spend her days, but Celeste was kind and the job paid enough so she could pay her bills. She could never quite put her finger on it, but something about the holiday season felt like an extra punch to her stomach. 

She dealt with customers day in and day out who decided to use their last month of the year to pack in the amount of kindness that should have been spread over the last 11 months. In her humble opinion, people should show kindness all months of the year, not just an extra dose during the last month of the year. 

When the decor shop was not decked for the holidays, she saw customers grumbling and trying to bargain prices out of Celeste. The holidays at least squandered that—a little. 

But working in the holiday shop wasn’t at the front of her mind this holiday season. Seeing families and couples in the square, watching customers buy decorations for homes so warm and filled with love, left her with a hole in her heart. She wondered what it felt like to have a meal with a family on Christmas or to kiss someone under a bunch of mistletoe. 

Anya shook her head. She knew it was silly, but there was something in her that wanted the things she knew she could never have so badly. But she knew you couldn’t make up for a family you didn’t have in the first place. 

At the hospital where she was raised, the nurses would include her in their holiday dinner, and when she was old enough and well enough to work in the hospital, they still asked her to join. She happily obliged, but even at the end of the night, they went home to their families, and she was alone. No family. Not even a place of her own. 

Anya pushed her dark thoughts to the back of her mind as she sorted and and hung the ornaments on the rack behind the counter. If she was lucky, Celeste would let her take one home. She didn’t have much to decorate with, nor did she really want to, but a couple ornaments here and there never hurt. 

She put the last ornament on the rack and turned back to Celeste. “These are lovely,” Anya said warmly. 

Celeste smiled at her. The bell on the shop door rang and customer walked in. Celeste and Anya jumped and turned to look at the door. Celeste greeted the customer.

Anya returned behind the counter to wait for any customers who needed help. She held her breath as she and Celeste watched the customer browse through the store. 

The customer browsed and exited the shop with no purchase. Anya was noticing that happening a lot more frequently this season. She didn’t want to mention it to Celeste, but surely she was noticing, too. 

As Anya turned to Celeste, Celeste had a certain spark in her eye. “I thought this year we could try something different,” Celeste said softly. 

Anya was surprised and barely managed a, “what’s that?”

“I thought it would be nice to sell hot chocolate and peppermint sticks for the holiday season,” Celeste replied. She clasped her hands together at her chest.

As lovely as it sounded, Anya knew it just meant more work on top of an already busy season. 

“And who is going to make that?” Anya asked. 

“You, darling,” Celeste smiled as she handed Anya an apron. 

Anya took the apron and looked at Celeste, “ _Me?_ ”

“Yes, how lovely would it be to do holiday shopping and get a little hot chocolate from a cute girl like you?”

“I can think of other things that would be better,” Anya muttered as she tied the apron on. 

“What was that?” Celeste asked as she turned to look at Anya. “Speak up, darling, you’re always mumbling.”

“Show me the hot chocolate!” Anya grinned sheepishly. 

Celeste led her to a closet where she had been storing supplies. Anya’s shoulders dropped. This was going to be quite the project. 

She helped Celeste pull the supplies out of the closet, and arrange them on the counter. Anya wasn’t sure the shop was qualified to be serving hot chocolate to guests, but she wasn’t going to argue with Celeste. If Celeste wanted to serve hot chocolate, they would serve hot chocolate.

* * *

Snow flurried through the air as Dmitry stepped into the cafe. He stared out the window as the door shut behind him, snow quickly covering rooftops as far as he could see. He pulled his cap off and dusted the snow off of it. 

He looked across the cafe to find Vlad, planted in one of the armchairs and reading the day’s paper. 

As Dmitry approached Vlad, he tilted his head to read the cover of Vlad’s newspaper.

“Vlad, have you seen this story?” Dmitry asked as he pulled the paper from Vlad’s hands and turned to the front cover. 

Vlad let out an exasperated sigh as Dmitry wrestled with the paper and put it down in front of him. _‘The Heiress Anastasia Romanov Lives?’_

“Yes, I saw it, it’s on the front cover!” Vlad snapped as he snatched his paper back from Dmitry. “Intellectuals would know the cover story is the most important.” 

“I’ve been thinking about this _Anastasia_ ,” Dmitry replied as he rubbed his temple. 

“Not you too, Dmitry,” Vlad sighed and shook his head. “It’s a bunch of crazy talk! A rumor, if you will.”

Vlad opened his paper up to the page he had left off on before he was rudely interrupted. 

“If everyone is going crazy over this, then why can’t we be crazy too?” Dmitry asked. 

“If you want to keep your nose clean, you’ll stay out of that mess,” Vlad replied as he looked at Dmitry over the top of his paper.

“Say, Vlad, don’t you always say your invitation to Lily’s Winter Gala must get lost in the mail,” Dmitry shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets. He turned to look at Vlad, his brow arching.

“I’ve never said that,” Vlad mumbled as he slouched into his chair. 

“Come on, Vlad, haven’t you ever wanted to know what it’s like to live in a fairytale? Just for one night?” Dmitry asked. 

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Vlad muttered.

“Marie Feodorovna will be there.” Dmitry added. “One of Lily’s longest standing friends, and the only remaining member of the Romanov family. They say she’s offering a reward to bring Anastasia back to her.”

“Quit while you’re ahead, Dmitry.” Vlad said sternly without looking up from his paper.

“Listen, Vlad, I’ve been thinking about this, the Romanovs lived the life that everyone wanted,” Dmitry replied as he circled Vlad. “So we find a girl who looks… kind of like Anastasia, and we take her to the gala to meet her grandmother! Her grandmother finds her long lost granddaughter, we get the cash, and you get to go to Lily’s ball—everybody wins!” 

“A terrible idea, but go on,” Vlad replied as he sat up straight. 

“Granted the hospital can’t provide a death certificate, which means there’s no proof Anastasia died from her injuries in that wreck ten years ago,” Dmitry smirked as he looked at Vlad. 

“I don’t like that spark in your eye,” Vlad replied as he picked up his paper and continued reading. “It’s the spark you always have before something goes terribly wrong.”

Dmitry smacked Vlad’s paper down and caught his line of vision. “Do you have a better idea?”

“We’re doing just fine! We don’t need to risk ourselves to do this! And besides, Anastasias don’t grow on trees,” Vlad shrugged as he smoothed what order of his paper remained. 

“Speak for yourself,” Dmitry muttered as he pulled on a cartoonish elf hat. 

Vlad sputtered and let out deep laughter as he looked at Dmitry. “A real dig to your pride I presume?”

“Shut up! It’s just to haul in some extra cash on the side between jobs. You really think I’d volunteer to assist with children taking photos with Santa?” Dmitry grumbled. He looked past Vlad at his reflection in the cafe window, and straightened the hat on his head. 

As he glanced at himself, he carefully fixed the front of his hair around the hat. 

Vlad could see him cringing at ruining his hair with a tasteless hat.

“Charity has never been in your vocabulary,” Vlad replied with a smirk. 

Dmitry scoffed and walked out of the cafe, the sound of jingle bells from his boots and hat following him as he walked. 

“Bah humbug!” Vlad snickered to himself. He held his paper up to finish reading in peace.

* * *

Dmitry skipped down the front step of the cafe and onto the street in the snow. As he crossed the street to the photography studio, he turned to look for traffic. A figure in the window of Celeste’s Home Decor caught his eye as she placed a sign in the window.

_‘Come in for a cup of Hot Chocolate!’_

Her eyes met his as she placed a sign in the widow. He watched for just a moment as she held eye contact and taped the sign to hold it in place.

He thought he caught the slightest curl in her lip as she turned over her shoulder and faded from the window. And suddenly he was craving a cup of hot chocolate. 


	3. The Deal

Tiny snowflakes gently fell and settled on miniature houses and figures in the city. They rested for a moment, covering the city in a powder snow. As all the flakes settled into place, with a violent shake, they flurried around again and began the slow descent of settling into place.

“Anya,” Celeste’s voice broke her concentration. 

Anya’s head snapped away from the snow globe on the counter, imagining what it was like to live in such a beautiful city. “Yes?” Anya replied. 

“You’ve been looking at that snow globe all day,” Celeste laughed as she stacked boxes onto a shelf. 

“I just want to know what it’s like to live in a beautiful city like Paris,” Anya mused. “I haven’t been certain about many things in my life, but there has been one thing, and that’s Paris.”

“Paris?” Celeste asked. 

“Someone is waiting for me there,” Anya said softly. “I don’t know who, but they’re in the city and they’re waiting for me.”

Celeste smiled softly to end the conversation. 

Anya rolled her eyes. She knew it sounded crazy. She couldn’t explain it, but there was something in her that just knew she belonged in Paris. 

Plenty of people had given her concerned glances and whispered behind her back, and she knew what it sounded like she was saying. She didn’t care. She would keep saving money for a one-way ticket. 

Anya set back to work hanging ornaments on the shelf for the display. Until she was in Paris, stocking shelves for the holidays would have to do. 

After his shift ended, Dmitry quickly pulled the cartoonish hat that he despised and shoved it in his bag. He pulled on his coat and slung the bag with his street clothes over his shoulder. After working in the studio with no windows all afternoon, he had been indoors so long he hadn’t noticed it had started snowing. 

He left the photo studio and headed down the block, to Celeste’s Home Decor shop, the sign advertising hot chocolate still hanging in the window. And how a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day sounded so delightful. 

Smirking as he skipped up the step, he was curious to see if the girl hanging the sign in the window would be there this afternoon. 

“Welcome!” a small voice came from the back of the shop. He looked in the direction the voice came from and saw no owner. With a shrug that dusted the snow off his coat, he looked around for where Celeste was selling hot chocolate. 

“Can I help you?” a young woman asked from behind the counter. Her straw colored hair was topped with a festive hat, and she leaned on the counter, he could only assume it was strategic to hide her festive holiday work uniform. He couldn’t blame her. 

“I was er- looking for a cup of your hot chocolate?” Dmitry asked. 

“Oh, right,” she mumbled. 

“Not a popular choice?”

“No, it just doesn’t make any sense,” she grumbled as she set to work. “Would you like a peppermint stick with that?”

“You’re so sweet,” his lip curled into a smile. 

“It’s part of the job to ask,” she scoffed. 

Dmitry cleared his throat and stood up straight, “Uh- yes, please.”

The woman turned back and handed him a warm cup. She rang him up on the cash register and he lingered for a moment as he looked at her. 

“Have a nice day,” she replied as she broke his gaze. 

“Right, you too.” he mumbled. 

Dmitry skipped down the steps of the shop and headed down the block. He heard a low whistle and turned on his heel. 

Vlad was standing behind him. Dmitry smiled as he took a sip of hot chocolate, and he walked with Vlad as they turned in for the evening. 

Dmitry shoved the door to a small, one-bedroom apartment open. Vlad followed him inside, immediately retiring to the bedroom, as Dmitry made himself comfortable in the living room. 

It was an arrangement the pair had made years ago. Neither of them could afford rent on their own, and decided it would be best to work together pay the rent. Dmitry had just left a house of old friends who were starting to drive him crazy. Vlad had just returned from Paris.

It worked better for their line of work anyway. And it was important that line of work stayed under the radar. 

“Have you been to Celeste’s lately?” Dmitry asked as he sank into the sofa. 

“No,” Vlad called as he hung his coat up in the bedroom.

“There’s a girl there who I’ve never seen before,” Dmitry replied. 

“Oh no,” Vlad shook his head. “You’re not still stuck on this Anastasia scheme of yours are you?”

“All I’m saying Vlad is this girl who works at Celeste’s shop might be our best bet,” Dmitry sat up to look at vlad through the door frame. 

“‘Our?’ Oh no, Dmitry, this isn’t our scheme,” Vlad shook his head. 

“Vlad, think about it!” Dmitry cried. “We could change history. We could be famous!”

Vlad pursed his lips as he glared at Dmitry. Fame wasn’t important to him, but he could use the extra cash in his pocket. He admired Dmitry, and how he dreamed of a life more luxurious than this one. 

It was the boy-like wonder in his eyes that got to Vlad, and reminded him of a much younger version of himself. 

“Fine.” his shoulders dropped. He figured it was worth a try. 

As Dmitry settled down on the sofa he had claimed as his own, Vlad sat on the bed in his bedroom. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, thumbing through for something at the back of his wallet. A photograph he hadn’t looked at in years. The edges were tattered from carrying it in his wallet, but it was all too familiar. 

A young woman with curly red hair clutching a tall young man as she grinned at the camera. Two teen girls with dark curls excitedly clutched the woman in the photo, and two young girls stood in front of the young couple. The youngest girl, small, but strong and with the grace of a queen, stood center with her strawberry blonde hair pulled back neatly in a bow. 

Vlad could still hear the girls giggling as they played with each other during lavish parties. And the youngest daughter who, when she wasn’t playing with her little brother, would tell him a riddle or a fact she had learned in her latest book. 

And his smile faded as he remembered when Lily had called and he ignored the phone ringing. She left a frantic voice message telling him to turn to the local news channel and that Maria was hysterical. And her last words “Nothing will be the same again,”

He shoved his wallet back into his pocket. “Don’t be so quick to judge her, Dmitry,” he said softly.

* * *

Anya held her breath as she sat alone in the supply closet and counted the money she had been saving over the last month. As she thumbed through the last bill she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip to hold her excitement. She finally had enough to cover the fees for her passport, now she just needed a photo to submit. 

After waiting nearly a year, it was all happening so fast. She carefully shoved the money back into her bag and headed to the photo studio. Surely they could do a fast passport photo for her. 

She waved to Celeste on her way out and hurried down the block to catch the photographer before they closed for the night. Anya carefully pulled the door open and stepped inside.

“Can I help you?” a woman at the front desk asked. 

“Yes, I need a passport photo,” Anya replied. 

“One moment, I’ll get it set up for you. Dmitry!” She called.

A young man poked his head around the corner to answer the woman. “Can you set up the backdrop for a passport photo?” She asked. 

“For her?” Dmitry asked as he pointed to Anya. 

The woman nodded. 

He glanced her over and headed back into the studio. 

Anya waited patiently and she looked at the woman at the front desk. 

“Go ahead and go back there,” she offered as she rolled her eyes at the man. “Dmitry!”

“I’m doing it, relax,” he mumbled. 

Anya followed him back to the studio and waited as he pulled the solid backdrop down and pulled out the camera equipment. 

“A passport photo, huh?” he asked. 

“Yes, please,” Anya replied shortly. He was already taking longer than she had anticipated. 

“Who are you running from?” he teased. 

Anya scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not running from anything. I’m running to someone. They’re waiting for me, in Paris.”

“Paris?” he replied as he arched his brow. 

“Yes, Paris.” Anya repeated. “I know it sounds crazy, but I know I’m not crazy!”

“I didn’t say you were,” Dmitry laughed as he adjusted the tripod for the camera. 

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Anya asked. 

“No! Why would I?” Dmitry laughed. “You’re just a young, presumably eligible young woman heading to the city of romance for the winter holidays, it’s a common enough motive.” He sputtered as he tried to hold in his laughter. 

“You do think I’m crazy!” Anya snapped. 

“To each their own, I’m just trying to get through the holiday season.” Dmitry shrugged. 

“Just take the damn photo,” Anya grumbled. 

“Oh that’s not my job, I’m just the assistant,” Dmitry replied. “Like how you assist in making the hot chocolate.”

Anya’s shoulders dropped as she sighed. Dmitry called the photographer over to take her photo. He snapped a few shots and let Anya see them. 

She thanked the photographer and paid the woman at the front desk for the photos. She glared at Dmitry as she exited the studio shop. 

As she stepped out of the studio and headed down the block, she heard the door open and shut behind her. Boots crunched in the snow behind her. 

“Hey!”

She heard him and grit her teeth as she ignored him and continued walking. 

“Hey!” he called again. With a slight skip in his step he was walking beside her. 

“What?” Anya snapped as she stopped to look at him. 

“What you said in there wasn’t crazy. My friend and I are actually going to Paris over the holidays ourselves.” Dmitry’s brow arched as he looked at her. 

“Eligible bachelors, obviously,” Anya spat as she crossed her arms over her chest. 

Dmitry pursed his lips to hold his tongue, “I deserved that.”

Dmitry cleared his throat and he circled Anya, surveying every inch of her. Anya stopped and glared at him, “Can I help you?”

“Listen, has anyone ever told you that you look like the late heiress Anastasia Romanov?” he asked. 

“No,” Anya replied. She clutched her hands to her chest to keep them warm. 

“I mean, I’ve seen a lot of women—”

“—I’m sure you have,” Anya interjected. 

Dmitry bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes shut to hold his temper. “What I was saying was, I never have seen someone who looks more like her than you,”

“Are you serious?” Anya asked as she started laughing. 

Dmitry frowned as he looked at her. 

“You think I’m crazy for going to Paris when you’re standing here telling me you think I look like some dead heiress or whatever?”

“It’s been all over the news. They think she might actually still be alive—”

“It’s cold, and you’re crazy!” Anya replied as she turned on her heel. 

“Wait!” Dmitry stopped her. He pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and scribbled down an address. “I know it sounds crazy, but hear me out. Just give it a chance. Meet my friend Vlad and me at this address tonight at 8 after I get off my shift. If you think I’m still crazy, we part ways as strangers.”

Anya took the piece of paper and sighed. She knew she had nothing left to lose. “Fine.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you tonight!” Dmitry grinned. 

“This isn’t like a date, though!” Anya called after him. 

“Why would I think it was a date? We’re just two business partners having a meeting,” he winked as he grinned at her and headed back into the studio.

* * *

Anya pulled her coat around her body as a chill ran through her body and she stood, questioning her sanity. She checked the address on the slip of paper again, and looked at the door to the bar. This was the address he had given her. Had she really gotten so desperate she was going to listen to a stranger? Some crazy man who told her she looked like a lost heiress? He did have a wicked smile. And she hated that she had a hard time saying no to that. It was hard to brush off crazy when it came in the package of a tall, smooth-talking man with a charming smile.

Still, her feet were firmly planted in the snow as she stood outside.

She squeezed her eyes shut. If she stayed out here, she might be on her own to get to Paris. But if she went inside, these men might be able to help her, no matter who they were and what their motive was. 

After a moment, she opened her eyes and exhaled as she pulled the door to the bar open. She glanced around and saw the man she now knew as Dmitry sitting at a table with another man. 

Anya wasn’t the type to hang out in bars, so she took a quick stock of the room before walking across the bar to the table they were sitting at. Doors, windows, the bathroom were all accounted for in case she needed to escape.

“Ah! There she is!” Vlad remarked. “What did you say your name was Dear?”

Vlad surveyed her, the familiarity of her appearance shook his core. He was certain he had never seen her before, but her face brought back memories of nearly a lifetime ago. 

Anya hesitated for a moment as she looked at both of them. “Anya,” she finally said. “My name is Anya.”

“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Dmitry replied as he crossed his arms. 

“Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

Dmitry shot a glance at Vlad and shook his head. 

“Dmitry says you’re new to town, what brings you here?” Vlad asked. 

“I moved here about a year ago, I was just looking for a change of scenery I suppose,” Anya said softly.

“Where were you before this?” Vlad asked. 

“Before I worked for Celeste, I was a waitress, and before that, I worked at the hospital. And before that-” Anya paused. “I don’t remember.”

“I’m sorry, did you say you don’t remember?” Dmitry asked. 

“At the hospital they told me I had amnesia. They gave me the name Anya, and told me there was nothing they could do,” Anya replied. 

Dmitry inhaled sharply as he looked at Vlad, and Vlad gently held up a hand to stop him. 

“But I do know one thing and that is Paris,” Anya said softly. “Which Dmitry said he would help me with and that’s why I’m here.”

“Right! Paris!” Dmitry grinned. “You said you’ve never heard of the heiress Anastasia Romanov.” 

“I mean, maybe in the news, I don’t remember.” Anya shook her head. 

“But you look more like her than any of the women who have tried to come forward as her since they revealed she might not be dead after all.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not going to lie about who I am just to go to Paris,” Anya shook her head. 

“It won’t be a lie,” Dmitry replied. “We’re just going to help you remember who you are.”

“I don’t like this,” Anya replied. 

“Listen, Anya,” Dmitry interjected. “You’re looking to get to Paris. We’re spending our holiday in Paris. You say you don’t remember your past, so if you do meet the Heiress Marie Feodorovna, and she doesn’t recognize you, it’ll all be an honest mistake!”

Anya frowned as she looked at him. 

“There would be a small reward, and you get to go to Paris—everybody wins!” Dmitry added. 

“I don’t like the sound of this,” Anya repeated as she stood up. She started on her heel.

“You said you’ve always wanted to go to Paris, now is your chance!” Dmitry tried to reason with her. 

Anya thought of the money she had saved to spend Christmas in Paris. She sighed and her shoulders dropped. “What do I have to do?” Anya asked. 

“It’s very simple, we’re going to help you remember your past,” Dmitry grinned as he leaned back in his chair. 

Anya pursed her lips as she thought. He had a point. There was a part of her that had always wondered if there was a family out there who missed her. She wondered if the feeling of someone waiting for her in Paris had anything to do with her family. And after all, he was right, this was her one chance to go to Paris. 

“Fine. Tell me where you want to meet to start your teaching.” Anya said as she slung her purse over her shoulder and held out her hand. 

“Gladly,” Dmitry grinned and shook her hand. 


	4. Mutual Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have a lot of ground to cover in this chapter! I promise we'll get into all the holiday goodness very soon!

Anya stood in the shoddy hallway of an apartment building and stared at the door. She felt a prickle in her spine that told her she should run, but she nervously knocked on the door. 

“Hello?” she called. 

There was no answer. 

Her heart pounded in her chest and she knocked again. 

She heard a latch and a lock move and the door cracked open. “Oh it’s just you, Anya,” Dmitry said as he opened the door. “You should knock louder, sometimes it’s hard to hear.”

She swallowed hard. There was a part of her that felt she had been knocking on doors her entire life searching for answers, and never found them. Perhaps her half-hearted, nervous knocking had manifested into subconsciously protecting herself from disappointment. 

Anya peered past Dmitry to the dingy room behind him. 

“What is this place?” she asked as she followed him inside. 

“Welcome to the humble abode,” Dmitry gestured to a spare chair for her to sit in.

Anya whipped around and looked at him, “you _live_ here?” She had lost all filter as she glanced around. 

“Ah, Anya!” Vlad smiled as he emerged from the bedroom.

Anya stared Vlad down as he entered the room. “You _both_ live here?” She glanced around the room. She should have guessed. It was cold and dark and furnished with only necessities.

Dmitry watched her as she looked around. He reached over and picked a book up off the sofa. 

“Are you ready to become Anastasia?” Dmitry asked as he shoved the book into her chest. 

Anya paused and turned to look at him. His voice snapped her back from her own thoughts. “I already told you, I’m not going to lie,” Anya repeated. 

“And I already told you, you’re not going to. You’re just going to remember the truth,” Dmitry circled her and flipped open a book. 

Anya braced herself as she began reading about the Romanov family. She had no idea how she was going to learn all of this information in a such short period of time. 

Dmitry started quizzing her, but she had never had a good memory. There was so much to learn, and it was all so easy to forget. As Dmitry grew more stern with her, it was harder for her to remember. 

And when Dmitry was too cross or frustrated with her, he and Vlad swapped places. She liked Vlad. He was gentle and kind, especially when Dmitry was not. 

“I think we should end it there tonight,” Vlad said softly. “You can take that book, Anya, if you’d like,”

Anya nodded and collected her belongings. 

Days passed and Anya found herself at Vlad and Dmitry’s apartment more than she was at her own. Working late led to late lessons, and staying up all night with Dmitry barking at her. 

Anya was exhausted and her head hurt from cramming the information. 

“Who is your great-great-great grandmother?” Vlad asked. He was seated properly on a spare chair in the apartment.

“Queen Victoria?” Anya squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to imagine the family tree.

“And your best friend?” Dmitry asked. He was slouched into the sofa with a chart of the Romanov family. 

“My little brother, Alexei!” Anya grinned, she was finally getting the hang of this. 

“Wrong!” Dmitry frowned. “Your best friend is-“

“-I know who my best friend is!” Anya snapped as she got up and marched across the room to Dmitry. She swiped the family tree from his hands and looked at it. 

“-Maria, your older sister.” Dmitry finished. 

“It was definitely Alexei!” Anya retorted. As she shoved the chart at him.

“Every book says Anastasia was close with her sister Maria,” Dmitry corrected. 

“I just know it was Alexei! And I don’t like being contradicted,” Anya sputtered. 

“That makes two of us!” Dmitry spat.

Anya grit her teeth as she stared him down. Who knew the price of going to Paris was being berated by this awful man. 

“That’s it, I’m going home!” Anya retorted. 

“Anya!” Vlad interjected, jumping up from his chair. 

“I’ve had it with you barking at me until I produce a right answer!” Anya glared at Dmitry as she shoved her belongings in her purse. 

“Well, I was under the impression you wanted to actually act like Anastasia when you met Marie Feodorovna.” Dmitry’s eyes narrowed. 

“I’m only human, surely Marie can understand that.” Anya snapped as she turned over her shoulder. 

“Anya, Darling!” Vlad hurried after her as she headed to the door. “You have courage and strength you barely know. An heiress like yourself can do this if she tries!” 

Anya stared at him before dropping her purse on the floor. “Fine, one last round,”

She forced herself onto the sofa beside Dmitry as he pulled out his chart and began quizzing her again. 

She rattled off names and dates and Vlad nodded as she looked at him. 

Dmitry took a long pause and looked through his notes on what to teach her. Anya gently rested her head on the armrest for just a moment. It was late, and she had barely noticed. 

She closed her eyes and started to drift off to sleep as she waited for Dmitry’s next orders. 

Dmitry and Vlad were mumbling in the background, and the sofa was so comfortable. 

“Anya?” Vlad said softly as he touched her shoulder. 

She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. 

“I think we should call it a night here,” Vlad gave her a warm smile. “We pick up tomorrow with dancing!”

“Dancing?” Anya replied as her head snapped up. 

“Yes, dancing,” Vlad grinned, “You didn’t think you were going to a ball without learning to dance, did you?”

Anya rested her head back on the sofa. 

“You’re welcome to spend the night here, Anya,” Vlad added. “I think you’ve earned it.”

“If I wasn’t so exhausted I would go home,” Anya replied as she closed her eyes. 

Vlad smiled warmly and draped a spare blanket over her shoulders. Dmitry argued with Vlad about the sofa being his place to sleep and Vlad suggested they share it. 

“I’m not sharing with her!” Dmitry hissed. 

“Then I suppose you’ll become well acquainted with the floor,” Vlad suggested. 

“Shouldn’t she sleep on the floor?”

“She’s an heiress, Dmitry, heiresses don’t sleep on the floor,” Vlad replied matter-of-factly.

Dmitry groaned and rolled his eyes. 

* * *

“Dancing, is a very complicated art form,” Vlad began. He had drawn the step movements for a waltz on a giant notepad and traced the steps with his fingers to show Anya and Dmitry. 

Dmitry and Anya were slouched into the sofa of the apartment. 

“It’s not rocket science, Vlad, I’m sure it’s not that hard,” Dmitry grumbled. 

“I’m glad you think so!” Vlad beamed, “I’ll need you to lead, Dmitry!”

Dmitry rolled his eyes. 

“Up! Get up!” Vlad gestured. 

Anya and Dmitry rose to their feet. Luckily, Vlad had pushed all of the furniture to the perimeter of the room, leaving plenty of space to practice a waltz. 

“Dmitry, you stand straight, there,” Vlad positioned him and pushed his back straight. “And Anya! Right here.” 

Vlad guided her and positioned her in front of Dmitry. He placed Anya’s hand on Dmitry’s shoulder, and positioned Dmitry’s hand on her waist. 

Dmitry’s ears burned red, and he was already uncomfortably stiff. 

“Remember, the waltz is in three counts, so a one, two, three- one, two, three-”

Dmitry took stiff steps and accidentally stepped on Anya’s toes. She let out a yelp and kicked his shin. 

“Anya! Stop that!” Vlad corrected. 

He gently guided their steps, and Anya looked up at Dmitry. His brow was knit, concentrating on the steps. It was stiff, but they were waltzing in the living room. 

Dmitry’s brow softened and his lips cracked a smile. 

Anya watched him, and for once she felt like he was pleased with her work. She smiled as he waltzed with her around the living room, spinning and twirling her effortlessly. He gently lifted her and landed her back to her feet, and she had never felt her heart race so quickly. 

He pun her as the track Vlad put on came to an end, and as the music stopped, he circled her. Her eyes locked with his, and she smiled, seeing a certain softness she had never seen in his eyes before. 

“Wonderful! Wonderful! Anya, it’s as if you had been dancing for years!” Vlad interjected. 

Anya snapped back and turned to look at Vlad. Her cheeks blushed and she looked at her feet. Dmitry’s ears turned red and he placed a hand on the back of his neck as he looked away. 

“Excellent!” Vlad cheered, “And dancing was the part I was worried about.”

“Dancing is done, what’s next?” Dmitry said quickly. 

“I think she’s nearly ready to become Anastasia!” Vlad grinned as he looked at Anya.

* * *

“What made you pursue being a holiday elf as a career?” Anya asked. 

She sat across from him at the cafe as they ate dinner. Dmitry frowned as he looked up from his plate at her. 

“What made you so nosy?” Dmitry scoffed. 

“I was asking a question!” Anya snapped. 

“It was a stupid question,” Dmitry’s brow knit. 

“Sorry, I just thought if we’re going to Paris together we might as well get to know each other,” Anya mumbled. 

Dmitry looked at her. His brow softened. 

“I didn’t want to be an elf,” Dmitry started.

“Clearly,” Anya rolled her eyes. 

“A lot of things didn’t work out, and I started just doing what I could to make it.” Dmitry said softly. “It wasn’t easy for me,”

“It wasn’t easy for anyone,” Anya replied as her brow knit. 

“I always said I was going to leave this stupid town. My father would say, ‘You’re smarter than this place, Dima!’ and he’d put me on his shoulders,”

“Dima?” Anya asked, and her face lit up with a smile. 

“That’s what he called me,” Dmitry tried to hide his smile as his ears burned with embarrassment. 

“Tell me about your father,” Anya replied. 

“What is there to tell?” Dmitry laughed softly. “He didn’t believe in ‘The System’ and was always getting into trouble. He was in and out of jail a lot when I was a kid. Then he got sick, and died when I was thirteen,”

“So who raised you, then?”

“No one, I raised myself,” Dmitry’s eyes cast away.

“That’s against the law,” Anya’s eyes narrowed. 

“Well, I went to live with a great aunt who lived in town, but I was basically raising myself.”

Anya was quiet. Dmitry shifted uncomfortably.

“At least you had an aunt to take care of you,”

“She was doing the least,” Dmitry said softly. “But it’s alright. You don’t need my tragic backstory, you’ve got one there yourself,”

Anya reached across the table and took his hand. He gasped and locked eyes with her for a moment before pulling away. 

Anya finished her meal in silence. 

* * *

Anya walked with Dmitry back to his apartment after her shift ended. Snow was falling around them, and her cheeks were growing numb in the cold. She walked quickly, but Dmitry seemed to linger behind. 

“Come on, it’s cold,” Anya whined. 

“Anya,” Dmitry said softly. 

“Yes?” She stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. He was digging in his bag for something. 

“I want to give you something for all your hard work,”

“Oh, Dmitry, you don’t have to do that-” Anya politely refused him. 

He caught up to her. “Close your eyes,”

“Dmitry, this is silly,”

“Just… close them, and hold out your hand.”

Anya stopped and closed her eyes and held out her hands. 

Dmitry neared her and placed something in her hands. Anya opened her eyes and found a small box in her hands. “What is it?” she asked as she looked at him. 

“A music box, rumored to have belonged to Anastasia herself,” Dmitry said softly. “It’s broken, but I was hoping it would be a good luck token for you.”

Anya looked the music box over for a key, and when she found one, she promptly turned it. The lid of the music box popped open and a song began to play. Anya hummed along with it, as if she already knew the song. 

Dmitry’s eyes widened as he watched her hum to the music. 

Anya murmured to herself words that nearly sounded like song lyrics. Dmitry’s brow arched as he watched her. 

Anya spun around in the snow as if she saw something he couldn’t see himself. 

“Anya?” he said softly. His heart raced, her movements were peculiar and he wasn’t sure what she was doing. 

Anya skipped along with the music, pausing to look at snow flurries, and gaze at the sky. 

“Anya?”

The key stopped turning and Anya smiled as she closed the lid on the music box. “It’s beautiful, Dmitry.”

He watched her for a moment. She had just acted in the most bizarre way and then acted like nothing had happened. He held his tongue. 

“Come on, Dmitry, it’s cold,” Anya said softly as she wrapped her scarf over her nose. 

“Coming,” he said softly with a slight skip in his step as he jogged to catch up with her.

Anya carefully placed the music box back in her bag, still humming the tune of the song.

* * *

“The more of these you buy the more Celeste thinks this is working,” Anya snapped as she handed Dmitry a cup of hot chocolate. 

“Well, what other excuse would I have to come in here?” grinned as he took a sip. 

“You could just.. Talk to me,” Anya replied as she wiped the counter down. 

“No, you’re more palatable with the hot chocolate.” Dmitry shook his head as he stirred the cup.

Anya frowned. 

“I picked up an extra shift this week, so I won’t be able to come until later,” Anya said as she leaned on the counter. 

“We have a lot to do this week, plans, final lessons-” Dmitry replied. 

“I know, but we need the cash,” Anya lowered her voice. 

Dmitry scoffed and started on his way out. “Fine. I’ll see you later.”

“What’s wrong?” Anya called after him.

“Nothing,” Dmitry shook his head. 

“Dmitry,” Anya wanted.

Dmitry paused and his shoulders dropped. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. “We don’t have the money, Anya,” he replied. “We’re not going to be able to go.”

“What?” Anya couldn’t believe him. Suddenly her dream of going to Paris was crumbling before her eyes. 

“I thought we would have more than we do. I’m sorry, Anya. Surely you can get to Paris alone.”

“What are you talking about? I trusted you, Dmitry!” Anya snapped. 

Dmitry bit his lip as she stared him down. He let out a sigh and he broke her gave. “I know, I said I’m sorry.”

Anya stared at him as he shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the door. “We can call off that lesson tonight. But you can still stop by to collect whatever things you’ve left at my place,” Dmitry’s voice dropped. 

Anya stood in disbelief as she watched him walk out the door of the shop. As quickly as he had come to build this fantasy in her head, he was gone. 

She frowned and grit her teeth, and headed to the supply closet. Anya grabbed her purse and dug through it to get to a secret pocket she had sewn into the purse herself. She unzipped it and reached inside. 

After digging out the contents she closed her hand around it and said a silent prayer, praying that she wasn’t going to make a fool out of herself. 

She straightened to her feet and hurried through the shop to the front door. She could see Dmitry’s frame growing smaller in the distance. 

Anya pushed the front door open and hurried down the street into the snow. “Dmitry, wait!” she cried. 

She ran through the cold in just her work uniform, her teeth chattering in the cold as she chased him down. 

“Dmitry!” she called again. 

When she finally caught up to him, she was out of breath. He stood watching her, stoically. “Are you here to scold me?” he asked. 

“No,” Anya panted. “I said I trusted you, but I didn’t trust you enough.”

“You don’t need to rub it in, Anya,” Dmitry muttered. 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hand,”

“Anya, this is-”

“Just do it,” she commanded. 

Dmitry did as he was told. 

Anya placed something in his hand and closed his hand around it. “Now open them,” she said softly. 

Dmitry opened his eyes and looked down at his hand. He slowly uncurled his fingers to reveal a pair of sparkling diamond earrings. 

“What the hell? Anya!” Dmitry gasped. “What are these?”

“Authentic diamond earrings,” Anya said softly. 

“You’ve had them all this time?”

“Yes,” Anya replied. 

“And you never mentioned it?”

“They’re the only thing of value that I own!” Anya cried. “Without them, I have nothing! When I was brought to the hospital, the nurses said I was wearing these earrings. They had never seen anything like them in real life. The nurse who tended to me told me to tuck them away, never to wear them, and never to tell anyone I had them until I found someone to trust.”

“How do you know I won’t just walk away right now,”

“Because I know you have a conscience.”

Dmitry turned to look at her as he arched his brow. 

“You like to pretend you’re this carefree guy, but deep down you know you would never do that to someone,” Anya said firmly. 

“Sorry you’ve only seen me with my conscience,” Dmitry laughed. “I usually leave that at home, it’s not good for business.”

Anya stood straight and stared him down. 

He held one of the earrings up to look at it closely. “We could easily get a few grand for these,” he said softly. 

“Anya!” Dmitry cried and he bent down to pick her up and swing her around. Anya let out a yelp as he squeezed her and held her tight. 

“It looks like we’re going to Paris for Christmas, after all,” Anya smiled. 


	5. Paris

Anya clutched the handle on her suitcase a little tighter as she stood at the door to the airport. Once she got on that plane, her whole life could change entirely. 

Dmitry pulled the last suitcase from the back of the cab and paid the driver. He and Vlad followed her up to the door, standing on either side of her. 

Anya turned to look behind her. Dmitry clenched his teeth. She knew this was just as important for him as it was to her. 

Vlad could see the uncertainty in her face. “There’s nothing left for you back there, my dear,” he said softly. 

Anya bit her lip and nodded. 

“Are you ready to see Paris?” Vlad said softly. 

Anya nodded, “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

She picked up her suitcase and led Vlad and Dmitry into the airport.

* * *

“Final boarding call for flight 618 with service to Paris,” a voice came over the speaker. 

Anya was squeezed between Dmitry and the window, and she gazed out the window as passengers packed on the plane. 

“What do you think it will be like?” Anya asked. Her hands nervously clutched her book. She had never been on a plane before—that she could remember. 

“Paris?” Dmitry asked. “I don’t know. It looks beautiful in pictures though.”

Anya nodded as she watched out the window while the plane taxied. Dmitry put headphones on and closed his eyes. Anya didn’t know how you could sleep through this. 

She read until she started to feel groggy, but she didn’t want to miss the glimpse of Paris as they landed. 

Vlad was staring down at his watch. 

“Anya, when we arrive in Paris, I need to call Lily. She will have information for us.”

Anya nodded, “Who’s Lily?”

Vlad smiled and looked down at his watch, “The most beautiful woman in Paris,”

Anya smiled softly as Dmitry fell asleep beside her. 

* * *

Anya was exhausted but her heart raced as they stepped out the door of the airport. They had arrived and she knew nothing would be the same after this. 

Dmitry hurried out to hail them a cab, and he stepped out into the street to wave one down. 

“Dmitry!” Anya cried. She dropped her bag and ran to him, pulling him back to the curb. 

“Get off me!” Dmitry grumbled as he shrugged her off. “I’m hailing a cab!”

“You could have been killed!” Anya cried. 

“There was nothing coming in the street!” Dmitry protested as he gestured to the empty street. 

“You don’t know that.” Anya replied crossly. “It could have come out of nowhere when you least expected it.”

“Anya, what is the problem?” Dmitry asked with exasperation.

Anya stared at him as Vlad hurried over to see what the quarrel was between them. 

“People die in car accidents, Dmitry,” Anya said coldly. “That’s how lots of people die, the Romanovs for example.”

“They’re pretty sure that was foul play,” Dmitry corrected. “Anya, you’re taking this too far, I’m just hailing a cab.” 

Dmitry pushed past her and extended his arm out while standing on the curb. 

A cab pulled up to the curb of the airport. He waved to Anya and Vlad. “Hope you’re happy,” he muttered as Anya opened the cab door. 

The driver asked Dmitry a question in French and he suddenly froze. “Vlad,” he motioned to the driver. 

“Bonsoir, monsieur,” Anya greeted the driver. “Mes Amis et moi,  nous restons dans un hôtel près du Pont Alexandre III.”

“Ah, oui, merci mademoiselle,” the driver replied. 

Dmitry watched her as his jar hung open. 

Anya reached over and closed his jar, “It’s not polite to stare, Dmitry.” 

Anya settled into her seat in the cab. 

“You never mentioned you could speak French!” Dmitry said quickly.

“It never came up,” Anya shrugged as she looked out the window.. 

Dmitry and Vlad exchanged glances with each other. 

Anya chatted with the driver as Vlad and Dmitry sat in silence.  “He says just a few blocks from here you can see the Eiffel Tower!” Anya beamed as she looked out the window.

“We’re in Paris!” Anya smiled. “Can you believe it?”

The cab rolled to a stop and let them off on a street corner near the Pont Alexandre III. Anya stared down at the Seine flowing beneath it, light shimmering on the surface. It was like a promise of better things to come. 

She couldn’t help but smile. This was the place she had dreamed of visiting for as long as she could remember and she was finally here. 

“Come on, Anya! We have so much to do!” Vlad called. 

Anya smiled as she looked across the bridge. She turned and grabbed her suitcase and followed Vlad into the hotel. 

“You didn’t happen to bring a ball gown, did you, Anya?” Vlad asked as they stood in the hotel lobby. 

“No, I don’t even own a ball gown,” Anya laughed as they waited for assistance at the front desk. 

“Then we’ll have no choice but to go shopping in the morning. Dmitry needs a better suit, bless his heart.” Vlad smiled at her. 

Anya chatted with the woman at the hotel front desk. Her brow knit in confusion as the woman handed her one set of keys. 

“The woman at the desk said she only had a reservation for one room,” Anya said as she glared at Dmitry. 

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not my fault the front desk speaks French! I did the best I could!” Dmitry protested. 

“You made a reservation for a one bedroom suite,” Anya replied. “Not two hotel rooms.”

She picked up her bag and started down the hall to the elevator. 

Dmitry and Vlad followed her up to the room. Anya opened the door to the hotel room, to find only two beds in the hotel room. 

“The woman at the front desk said she could try to find us a second room for tomorrow, but for tonight this room will have to do,”

Vlad and Dmitry looked at each other, and Vlad quickly tossed his belongings on one of the beds. “You two can figure it out, but if I don’t sleep on a bed my back will kill me in the morning,” he said quickly.

“You boys can share,” Anya smirked as she tossed her belongings on the second bed. 

“What? No way!” Dmitry snapped. He set his suitcase on the floor. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t suggest the floor, since it was you who got us into this mess,” Anya replied. 

“We’re staying in a luxury hotel, I’m not sleeping on the floor!” Dmitry snapped. 

“Fine! We can share!” Anya sighed. “But you better not snore, and you better not get any ideas.”

Dmitry stuck his tongue out at her. 

Anya rolled her eyes. They had arrived at the room late, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and go to sleep. She set her bag down and searched through it for a pair of pajamas. She pulled them out and walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

“Is she serious?” Dmitry asked Vlad. 

Vlad shrugged and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Vlad sat on his bed as Dmitry grumbled and unpacked. 

Anya returned in a set of matching pajamas, and suddenly she looked so small and innocent. Dmitry stared at her, her hair tied up in a messy bun and ready for bed. There was a pang of guilt in his gut of having her impersonate an heiress for money. His stomach twisted with the guilt of using her for a get rich quick scheme that she didn’t even know about. 

Anya got into bed and opened her book to start reading. Dmitry and Vlad settled in for the night. Dmitry grunted as he pulled his sweater over his head and Anya looked up over the top of her book.

Dmitry struggled and the sweater pulled his t-shirt underneath up with it. 

Anya bit her lip and looked back at her book after catching a glimpse of his bare waist. 

She wasn’t sure if he had notices, and she quickly turned the page in her book to look busy, and flipped it back as she realized she hadn’t even read it. 

Dmitry folded his sweater and packed it away. He walked over to the bed and carefully crawled in beside her. 

Anya placed her book aside, noticing how late it had gotten. She shifted toward the edge of the bed, and away from Dmitry. She made herself small to take up the least amount of space she could. She didn’t want him getting comfortable with this. 

Dmitry sat stiffly beside her, keeping his arms to his sides and his legs straight. 

Anya rolled onto her side, keeping as far away from him as she could, and tried to fall asleep. 

Suddenly, she felt more awake now than she had the entire trip. She rolled over to look at Dmitry and he was staring at the ceiling. 

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, too. Vlad was fast asleep, gently snoring. 

Anya squeezed her eyes shut to try to force herself to fall asleep. She opened them and sighed. 

Dmitry was silent. Anya has learned he was most dangerous when he was silent. It meant he was lost in thought. 

Eventually, she heard Dmitry’s breathing slow as his chest rose and fell slowly. She knew he must have fallen asleep. 

Anya rolled over and closed her eyes, praying for just a couple hours of sleep.

* * *

Anya’s eyes slowly opened as the sun peered through the curtains of the hotel room. 

She looked around and started to roll over, and suddenly gasped. 

Anya looked down to find Dmitry’s arm draped across her waist and her arm rested gently on his. He was curled up against her back, still peacefully asleep. 

She pulled her arm away and carefully took her thumb and pointer finger to carefully pick up Dmitry’s arm and move it off her without waking him. 

He stirred and Anya held her breath as she watched him. She quickly slid out of bed as he rolled over. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh of relief that he was still asleep. 

He looked so peaceful, his usually perfectly coiffed hair was messy from sleeping, his expressive brows soft in his slumber, his arm gently clutching the blankets as he slept. 

Anya shook her head to clear her mind. Surely a cup of coffee would help her get her thoughts in order. 

She carefully prepared a cup from the hotel amenities and took it out onto the balcony of the hotel room. 

Anya gazed over Paris, the feeling was still so surreal that they were actually here. The balcony door opened and shut and she turned to look.

“Good morning, Anya,” Vlad said warmly.

“Sleep well?” Anya asked. 

“Just fine, yourself?” Vlad asked as he gazed over the balcony.

“Fine,” Anya said softly. 

Vlad smiled to himself. “You two are young, you bounce back from a bad night faster than I do,”

“What are your plans for going shopping today?” Anya asked. 

“Dmitry and I need to get suits tailored for the ball, I’m afraid you’ll be on your own to pick a gown,” Vlad said softly. 

“On my own?” Anya asked. 

“Not to worry, I’ve written down some of the finest dress shops in Paris, surely they’ll be able to help you,”

Anya’s heart sank. Shopping alone in Paris wasn’t really her idea of a good time. And besides, she was hoping Vlad could help her pick a gown that would be appropriate for the occasion. She had no sense of color and style of dress, and in this case it was going to be pretty important. 

“And you have a plan to get us into this invite-only party?” Anya asked as she sipped her coffee. 

“I rang Lily last night,” Vlad replied. 

“And did she answer?” Anya asked. 

“Given that it was the hotel phone, no. And I think she has my personal number blocked. But I left her a voice message, I’ll try her again later today,”

“Vlad you can’t just call her, women don’t want to be called abruptly. Send her a message,” Anya suggested. 

“No, no, I don’t think that would go over very well, Anya,”

“You love her, don’t you?” Anya asked. 

“Who told you that? Was it Dmitry?”

“No!” Anya said quickly, “the way your brow softens when you talk about her.”

Vlad’s cheeks flushed. Anya smiled at him as she gently took his arm. “Come on, we have a busy day ahead of us!”

* * *

Dmitry stood straight on a stool as the tailor pinned the hem of his pants. He made a face in the mirror as he imagined the full suit and how the entire ensemble would look. 

Vlad stood next to him as an associate pinned his pants. Dmitry looked at Vlad in the reflection of the mirror. “Look at us, we’re really here,” Dmitry laughed. 

The color had drained from his face and Vlad stared back at Dmitry in the reflection nervously. “She’ll break yur heart, Dmitry,” he said softly. 

Dmitry’s brow knit. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Anya,” Vlad whispered. 

“What about her?” Dmitry scoffed. 

“If we take her to this ball, and they accept her as the heiress Anastasia Romanov, you’ll never see her again. An heiress marrying a common man is a fine plot for movies and fairytales, but it doesn’t happen in real life.” Vlad reminded him. 

Dmitry was silent and grit his teeth. He glared at Vlad in the mirror. The tailor finished his hem and asked Dmitry to remove the pants. Dmitry stepped down from the stool and headed for the dressing room, “What do you know about anything? As usual, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Vlad watched him with misty eyes as he left to change his pants.

* * *

Anya sat in the hotel room, waiting for Dmitry and Vlad. Vlad returned with two garment bags, Dmitry following close behind. 

“Productive day, boys?” Anya teased. 

“Yes! Did you find all you were looking for?” Vlad asked. 

“I did!” Anya smiled. 

Dmitry noted the numerous shopping bags collected by Anya’s belongings. 

“Are you hungry, Anya? We could grab something?” Dmitry offered. 

Anya nodded. She talked Vlad and Dmitry into a small cafe she had seen that morning. 

As they sat at the cafe, Dmitry looked at a map of the city. “Hey, the palace isn’t too far from here, I hear they have an ice skating rink.”

“Ice skating?” Anya asked.

“Yeah, are you a skater, Anya?” Dmitry looked at her over the top of the map. 

“I’ve never been,” Anya confessed. 

“Well, we’re definitely going now!” Dmitry teased. 

“I hit my head in my accident, I haven’t really put myself in the way of activities where I might hit my head again,” Anya said softly. 

“You won’t, you’ll be perfectly fine,” Dmitry reassured her. 

After their meal, Dmitry led Anya and Vlad to the palace. Anya’s eyes widened as she watched the ice skating rink. Children skated fast, couples skated together, and others just took the liberty of the ice. 

Anya got rental skates for her and Dmitry, while Vlad happily stayed on the sideline. “How am I supposed to do this?” Anya laughed as she tried to stand. 

Dmitry helped her to the ice, and gently helped her into the rink. Anya clung to the edge of the rink, watching everyone in the rink move so quickly. 

“Come on,” Dmitry smiled softly. “You just want to gently push your feet and glide.”

“Everyone is moving so fast,” Anya replied. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Dmitry reassured her. 

“Push. Glide.” Dmitry repeated as he skated ahead of her. He rounded back and came back to her. 

Anya nodded and pushed her feet along as she held the edge. 

Dmitry nodded. “There! You’re moving!”

“I don’t like this, Dmitry,” Anya said quickly as she caught her balance on the wall. 

Dmitry skated over to her and held out his hand. 

Anya turned to look at him as she held the barrier. 

“Take my hand, it’ll make it easier,” he said. 

“What if I pull you down?” Anya asked as she stared at his hand. 

“You won’t. Do you trust me?” Dmitry asked. 

“Yes,”

“Take my hand.”

Anya took his hand, and Dmitry gently glided as Anya took small steps. He nodded as he watched her grow more comfortable on the ice. 

Dmitry squeezed her hand and gently led her away from the barrier. “Feel better?’

“A little,”

“Let go of the wall.”

“No I—”

“Trust me, you can hold my hand if you need to,” Dmitry offered. 

He led Anya off the wall and slowly skated with her. Her brow knit as she concentrated on her feet. 

After a lap around the rink, Anya felt better and she and Dmitry slowly worked up a rhythm to skating together.

“Beau couple,” A woman said to her partner as she skated past Anya and Dmitry. 

Anya’s attention snapped to the woman. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Dmitry whispered and gently squeezed her hand. 

Anya turned back to look at him. 

He skated slowly with her as she still figured out her footwork. Her body teetered, and she began to lose her balance. 

Dmitry released her hand as she slipped and quickly caught her from hitting the ground.

Anya looked up at him and he smiled down at her. 

After several laps around the rink, Anya was exhausted. She stopped at the gate with Dmitry, and he squeezed her hand and pressed a kiss into the back of her hand. 

Anya gasped and turned to look at him. 

“Can’t believe you never considered going pro!” Dmitry teased. 

“Shut up, Dima,” Anya laughed. 

Vlad watched them laughing and teasing each other as they removed their skates. “What’s meant to be is meant to be,” he said softly to himself. 


	6. The Winter Gala

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter dips in and out of being close to canon. It's a pretty long one, so I hope you enjoy! Thank you for all the support on this fic this season, and I hope it's brought a little holiday joy to you! :)

Anya curled up in bed, making herself small, as her brow knit in her slumber. She tossed and turned in her sleep. 

The seven figures who haunted her dreams were back again. 

It was always the same dream with seven ghostly figures in a dark space, except this time she felt she was so close she could touch them if she tried. 

She was in a dark room again, seven figures surrounding her. 

_Who are you?_ She asked, but her throat suddenly felt dry. She asked them every time they appeared and never got an answer. 

_You come every night, who are you?_ She demanded. 

Anya tossed in her sleep, searching for an escape in a room with no windows or doors. 

_And we will, until you remember us._ A tall man with deceptively kind eyes replied. 

His voice had a vague familiarity, but Anya could never place it. 

_Have you said your prayers?_ A woman asked. She was dressed in more jewels than Anya had ever seen in her life. 

Anya frowned. Why did they come? Why was it always the same dream. 

_We’re here for you, Sunshine!_ The tall man smiled. 

Anya tossed to try to shake the feeling. She always wanted to say something back but felt like the figures could not hear her. Her throat was dry and she wanted to scream but couldn’t.

_Do you want to know a secret?_ A young boy asked. 

Anya tossed in her sleep. 

_ This is the last ball of winter. Our last winter ball with Lily. Do you have a secret? _

_I don’t know who I am!_ Anya cried, and she suddenly felt all the air knocked from her lungs. She couldn’t breathe.

_That’s silly! Everyone knows who they are!_ The boy taunted. 

_Anya! Anya! Anya!_ The figures chanted as they circled her. 

Anya panted in her sleep. Her eyes snapped open and she threw back the covers and jumped out of the bed, running across the room. “Papa!” Anya cried as she snapped back to reality. 

She clutched her chest as she caught her breath. She looked around the dark room. The figures were gone from her vision. 

The bed rustled and Dmitry’s arm swept the bed to find she was gone. He sat up and jumped out of bed, “Anya?”

He ran to her as she stood in the middle of the room and trembled in the dark. He gently touched her arm to comfort her. 

She turned sharply to look him over, studying his features as if to make sure he was real. 

“Anya, you were having a nightmare,” Dmitry said softly. He gently took her hands in his own,    
“you’re safe now.”

Anya stared at his hands as he held hers. She looked up and caught his gaze. “Dmitry, do you think I really might be her?” Anya asked. 

He stared at her. His mouth gaped as he searched for an answer as she looked at him with fearful eyes. Dmitry cleared his throat, “If I was Marie Feodorovna, I would want you to be Anastasia.”

“You would?”

Dmitry squeezed her hands, and gently led her to the edge of the bed to take a seat. He brushed a piece of her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. 

“I would want her to be beautiful, strong, intelligent young woman,” Dmitry said softly. 

Anya stared at him in the dark. “Is...is that what you think I am?”

Dmitry stared down at her hands as he held them and sharply inhaled, “I do.”

Anya gently pulled her hands away from his and she turned straight on the bed as she folded her hands in her lap, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Dmitry said quickly. 

Anya carefully shifted her weight and gently moved a comfortable distance away from him on the end of the bed. “I was beginning to wonder if you would ever give me a compliment,” she said softly. 

They sat in silence on the edge of the bed. Dmitry stared at her as she stared down at her hands. Anya inhaled slowly, trying to calm her breathing. 

“You really think I might be her?” Anya asked. 

Dmitry slowly nodded as he sat beside her. 

Anya gasped. 

“I want to believe you really are Anastasia,” he said softly. 

Anya watched him as her eyes grew tired. He took her hand and held it until she grew so tired she crawled back to bed. He crawled back with her, gently holding her as he waited for her to fall soundly back to sleep. 

* * *

Anya woke as the sun rose over Paris, and found Dmitry’s arm gently resting on her waist. But this time, she wasn’t so quick to move it. Something about him being so close made her feel safe. Her brow softened as she looked at him. His other hand was resting in his hair, as if he had fallen asleep watching over her. 

Her heart pounded and she stayed in bed a few minutes longer, lingering as she felt his breath on the back of her neck as he slept, unaware. 

Anya gently rolled over and Dmitry woke with a start. He rolled over to look at the clock in the hotel room, and pulled his arm off her as his ears burned red. 

“Sorry,” he murmured as he threw the covers back and slid out of bed. 

Dmitry locked himself in the bathroom, and Anya felt her stomach twist. She wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed by her, especially now that she had grown to accept his company. 

* * *

Anya held her gown to her chest as Vlad fastened the back. If you know how to undo it, you can surely fasten it again, Vlad had reassured her. Anya wasn’t sure she believed that logic, but the gown required a second pair of hands nonetheless. 

As Vlad finished the last button in the back, Anya turned over her shoulder to look at her back. She spun around and the skirt fanned out as she twirled around. She paused and looked in the mirror, and Vlad looked at her reflection over her shoulder. 

Anya looked at herself in a gown she could never have imagined wearing. Vlad nodded and smiled as he left her to finish getting ready. She looked in the mirror as she carefully put on her jewelry. 

Dmitry and Vlad had been dressed for almost an hour, and Dmitry had run down to the lobby to get a car to take them to the gala. 

Anya stared at herself in the mirror, knowing this gala could change everything. It was a big night for all of them, and she worried she would forget something and let Dmitry down. 

“Almost ready, Anya?” Vlad called. 

“Almost!” Anya called back as she fastened her earring. 

She took a few steps into the common area of the hotel suite, and Vlad looked up at her from his seat. 

“How do I look?” Anya asked, giving her gown a twirl. The gown sparkled in the low light and her earrings perfectly framed her face as she spun.

Vlad swallowed hard. It was nearly uncanny. “Marvelous, Dear! Let’s go, Dmitry is waiting in the lobby”

Vlad walked with her down to the hotel lobby, offering his arm if she needed it to practice walking in her heels. Anya enjoyed his company, and as her heart raced in anticipation, she gripped his arm. 

Anya and Vlad entered the hotel lobby, Vlad pausing to check his tie in a hallway mirror. Anya walked gracefully into the lobby, looking for Dmitry. 

He was crouched down, tying his shoe. As he heels clicked on the marble floor, Dmitry looked up. He gasped as he scanned Anya in her blue gown. 

He stood up and straightened his suit before offering his arm, the way he knew that he should. Anya nodded to him and gladly accepted his arm. As he led her out to the car, they paused to look in the grand mirror in the hotel lobby. It could be the last time he was looking at her as Anya. The Anya he had come to know so well. 

He looked at her reflection over her shoulder as she looked at herself in the mirror, and his eyes wandered. In the weeks he had gotten to know her, he realized he had never seen her in anything but sweaters, her work uniform, thick coats, and her pajamas. Tonight, she was wearing a gown that left her shoulders and back bare, and he focused on her eyes in the reflection to keep his thoughts straight. The blue in her gown brought out the blue in her eyes. 

And just then, a scar on her shoulder caught his eye. He looked down at her shoulder and noticed it wasn’t a single scar. She had a pattern of small scars across her left shoulder and running across the back of her neck and down her spine. Like she had been injured while wearing a dress not unlike the one she was wearing now.

He gasped as pieces started to fall into place. The scars on her back looked like they could have come from shards of glass cutting her. 

Anya had never said anything about them. He didn’t want to ask. 

“Dmitry?” Anya said softly. “Are you ready?”

He snapped to, and cleared his throat, “Er- yes.”

Dmitry led Anya and Vlad to the car and helped Anya into the car with her skirt. As he climbed in beside her, he noticed her shaking beside him. He pulled his coat off and offered it to her, wrapping it around her shoulders. Anya carefully accepted it, but as he took her hand and squeezed it, the shaking in her hands didn’t stop. 

The car ride to the grad estate was silent. Dmitry had done all he could to help her, and she would have to shine on her own now. He had calculated everything, and if all went according to plan, there was no way they could lose. 

As the car pulled up the drive and stopped, Dmitry helped Anya out of the car. Vlad tagged closely behind, carrying a gold envelope with an invitation. 

Vlad had managed to get them invitations to the gala out of some steep persuasion with Lily’s cousin, who was her trusted party planner. He offered the envelope to Dmitry and he took it as Anya held Dmitry’s arm. 

Vlad smiled as he looked at Dmitry and Anya. He knew this moment was about to change everything for all of them, and he wanted to take a moment to appreciate their lives just as they had come together. 

“You go ahead with Anya, Dmitry,” Vlad gestured to the door. “I’ll catch up with you in a moment.”

Dmitry nodded as he gave Vlad a concerned look. Vlad waved him off. 

Vlad watched the pair with misty eyes. Dmitry was so smitten with Anya he couldn’t stand to think of the heartbreak he would be witnessing in mere hours from now. 

“I never should have let them dance,” Vlad murmured to himself. 

Dmitry’s heart pounded as he led Anya to the door and offered security their invitation. He held his breath as the man at the door scanned the invitation, and glanced Anya and Dmitry over. He waved them through and Dmitry exhaled. 

Dmitry took their coats to the coat room, and Anya stood in the grand entryway, peering into the dazzling ballroom.

Anya wrung her hands nervously. The grand ballroom at the end of the hall was overflowing with chatter, music, and glasses clinking. She watched from a distance as the world that felt so foreign to her unfolded before her eyes. 

Dmitry returned by her side and she exhaled at the feeling of comfort beside her. In such a strange and unfamiliar place, Dmitry was a constant, taking care of her and making sure she felt safe the entire time.

“Are you ready?” He said in a low voice as he neared her and took her hand in his own. 

“Dmitry, I don’t know about this,” Anya replied as she clasped her hand to her chest.

“Come on Anya, you flew all the way to Paris to be here! ” Dmitry smiled to cover the facade. What had started as a game had sobered into something real. He knew she was Anastasia. He knew after tonight it was all over. “It’s what you came to do,” he said softly to her. It was a reminder to himself, too.

He had to enjoy the fairytale while he could. He kept reminding himself of that. 

Anya searched for safety in his eyes. Her brow softened and her hands dropped to her sides, “Let’s go.”

He offered his arm and she graciously accepted it as he led her into the ballroom. 

As they entered, a man carrying a tray of champagne offered both of them a flute. They politely accepted and clinked glassed before taking a sip. 

Anya knew a drink couldn’t hurt to calm her nerves before she faced Marie Feodorovna. 

Vlad had hurried off to find Lily, Dmitry only assumed to get them access to Marie. Vlad had mumbled something about how no one saw Marie without Lily’s approval first. 

Dmitry and Anya passed into the grand ballroom without incident, or even a disapproving look in their direction. They downed the rest of the champagne and Anya looked around the grand room. 

Women walked around in the most elegant gowns she had ever seen, and chatted over champagne and vodka. She took in everything around her, until her eyes fixed on the chandelier. 

“I’ve been in this room before,” she murmured.

Dmitry turned to look at her. 

“The last time I was here it was cold, but everyone was beautifully dressed. It must have been winter,” Anya said softly. 

Dmitry swallowed hard as he watched her. 

A music ended and there was low chatter over the room. As the next song picked up, couples went down to the floor to dance. Dmitry offered a hand to Anya, and she nervously accepted. 

“It’ll be just like my living room, I promise,” he reassured her. 

She laughed and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 

He held her tightly as they waltzed around the room. Anya smiled to herself as they twirled, squeezing his hand. The feeling of her heart race as she danced with a handsome man was so familiar but she could put place it. She looked up at Dmitry, his lip curled into a smile as he danced with her. 

Her skirt fanned out as Dmitry spun her around and she felt a flutter in her stomach that she hadn’t felt since she was a teenager. 

Dmitry held her tight, spun her around, and held her again, grasping onto every moment he had left with her every time he gripped her waist. 

Suddenly he spotted Vlad as the music came to an end. Vlad motioned for them to follow him. Dmitry held Anya’s hand as she picked up the hem of her skirt and walked quickly to meet Vlad.

Dmitry snagged a second glass of champagne on their way out of the ballroom and took a sip. Part of him wanted to down it on the spot.

And suddenly he placed the glass on an empty table as he followed Anya. He had decided he would rather be sober for this.

“I’ve asked Lily to see you, dear,” Vlad said softly.

Anya nodded and Vlad led her and Dmitry up a staircase to a private wing. A small woman was waiting for them in a sitting room. 

Vlad led Anya to the petite woman Anya could only assume was Lily. She gave Vlad a weary look as he brought Anya and Dmitry into the sitting room. 

“I would like you to meet Lily,” Vlad introduced Lily to Anya. Anya did a small courtesy and bowed her head to the woman. 

The woman stared at Anya and pursed her lips. She looked at Vlad and back to Anya. “Vladimir, can I have a word?”

Anya stood alone with Dmitry as Vlad and Lily spoke in private. Anya twisted her hands nervously. 

“Hey, you’re going to be fine,” Dmitry said calmly as he gently touched her shoulder.

“What if Lily doesn’t believe me?” Anya blurted out. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Dmitry said firmly. 

Lily hurried back into the room with Vlad. Her face was much softer. Anya wasn’t sure what Vlad had said to her, but Lily seemed more open to meeting her.

“Mademoiselle,” Lily said as she returned and gestured to Anya.

“Yes?” Anya replied nervously. 

Lily examined her, and looked back at Vlad. “Vladimir, it’s uncanny,” Lily finally said. He nodded. 

“Madame,” Dmitry bowed to Lily, “You will introduce her as the heiress Anastasia Romanov.”

“Very well, young man,” Lily replied after looking Anya over.

She led Anya away, leaving Dmitry and Vlad in the parlor. Dmitry paced back and forth as Vlad took a seat on the chaise. 

“She has to accept her, right?” Dmitry said quickly. 

“Marie has always held bitterness and resentment close to her heart. I think the better question is, will she be open to accepting her as Anastasia?”

“She has to!” Dmitry turned to look at Vlad. “We’ve come all this way! She looks just like every photo I’ve ever seen of Anastasia! She has the scars as proof—” His voice trailed off.

Vlad swallowed hard. “If Lily comes back, tell her I needed a stiff glass of vodka.”

Dmitry paced around the parlor, running his hands through his hair. He had calculated everything. There was no way he could be wrong, especially not now. They would win the reward, Anya would find the family she had been searching for, the Romanovs would have their missing daughter back. There was nothing to lose, except—her. 

Suddenly the door to the parlor opened, and Anya entered nervously. Dmitry started and hurried to her. 

“What did she say?” Dmitry asked quickly. 

“She wouldn’t even look at me. She said, ‘she’s an imposter, Lily, I know her kind too well,’” Anya repeated. Her eyes were glassy as she recounted the harsh words Marie had spoken. “‘She wants fame and fortune and will break an old woman’s heart to get it.’”

“That’s crazy!” Dmitry replied. “I’ll-I’ll tell her the truth!”

“—That I was a pawn in a scheme of yours?” Anya replied. A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away. “That you made me think I was someone I never was, or ever could be?”

Dmitry swallowed hard as she circled him. 

“I may have been poor, and desperate to get to Paris when I met you, Dmitry, but I wasn’t dishonest,” Anya said curtly. “I _hate_ you for that.” 

She pushed past him to exit the parlor and hurry down the hall to the grand staircase she had climbed a mere hour early with so much hope. 

Lily hurried back into the parlor to find Dmitry standing alone in disbelief. 

“I’m so sorry, young man,” Lily said softly. 

“Is Marie Feodorovna still here?” Dmitry asked. 

“She is,” Lily replied as she nodded. 

“I want to tell her—it wasn’t Anya’s idea! I take full responsibility for bringing her here to Paris-” Dmitry turned around and found himself face to face with Marie Feodorovna. 

“I- Marie-” He stammered. “I believe in my heart she is the late heiress Anastasia Romanov!”

“I will not stand to be spoken to this way—Lily!” Marie called. Lily hurried to her side. 

“She only wants what belongs to her! To find the family she lost! Imagine her life since her parents, her sisters, her little brother were murdered—” Dmitry spat in her direction. 

“I don’t need you to repeat my family history to me, young man!” Marie snapped. She pushed past him and continued into the hall. 

Dmitry let out a grunt and followed her into the hallway and sown the staircase. 

“Anya survived for a reason! She is here tonight for a reason!” Dmitry cried. 

Marie paused on the landing of the staircase and turned to look at Dmitry, “I don’t need you to remind me of what happened to my son and his family on the very anniversary of their death, at the event they were going to before they were murdered!” 

“You’re tiring her!” Lily cried as she held out her arm to stop Dmitry. 

Dmitry’s brow knit as he frowned at Marie. He opened his mouth to argue and Lily held a hand up to stop him.

Dmitry turned on his heel and ran down the rest of the staircase. 

“Take me home, Lily,” Marie said softly.

* * *

Dmitry ran out into the grand entrance of the estate to find Anya asking a man for her coat in the coat closet. 

“Anya! Wait!” Dmitry called. “Anya!”

She grit her teeth and kept her attention on the closet as Dmitry came to her side. He panted for a moment as he caught his breath. 

“That was my life you _played_ with!” Anya said curtly as she searched. “Telling me I was someone else, letting me believe I was her, getting me to play into your stupid game!”

The man returned with Anya’s coat and she draped it over her arm. She walked through the entrance hall to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Dmitry asked. 

“Anywhere that’s far from you!” Anya replied sharply as she turned on her heel. 

“Anya—” Dmitry pleaded. 

“Don’t speak to me!” Anya snapped. “I’m flying out of here first thing in the morning.”

Dmitry hung his head. 

Vlad ran into the entrance hall. He doubled over for a moment to catch his breath. “I heard- Dmitry,” he gasped. He exchanged a glance with Dmitry. “Anya!” Vlad said warmly. 

“And _you_!” Anya snapped as she turned to look at Vlad, “It’s no wonder Lily dumped your sorry ass! You’re a cheater! And a Liar! And you deserve every hardship life deals you! You both do!”

Dmitry held his hands behind his back and straightened his chest.

Anya neared him and he swallowed as he watched her. 

“And you, Dmitry,” Anya said curtly as her voice cracked. She was inches away from him. “I admired you. I admired your ability to take the hardship life dealt you and to remain hopeful. Now I don’t even know if I can believe anything you said to me.”

Dmitry swallowed and closed his eyes. 

Anya pulled her coat on over her gown and headed for the door. 

Lily came running into the grand entrance, and tapped Vlad on his shoulder. He turned to look at her and she whispered so only he could hear. 

“Dmitry,” Vlad said softly as he motioned for them to walk down the hall together. 

Dmitry turned to see Marie walking with her cane into the entrance hall. He hurried off with Vlad and Lily, leaving Anya alone. 

“You barked orders at me like your life depended on it! Save it for your next Anastasia—” Anya turned around to see Marie Feodorovna standing behind her. 

“Madame, I am so sorry,” Anya did a small courtsey. “I thought you were someone else.”

“I know exactly who you thought I was,” Marie replied. “But I think fate demands we play this game to the end.”

Anya nodded as she looked at the old woman. Her eyes, though stern with age, were a blue that Anya was not unfamiliar with. 

“Perhaps a quiet room,” Marie suggested as she gestured to a doorway off the entrance. 

Anya nodded. 

As Anya shut the door behind them, the old woman stared her down. Anya’s heart raced as she shrugged her coat off. She was already warm indoors, but the heat from her nerves was making the room nearly unbearable.

“Would you like to take a seat?” Anya offered. 

“There is no need,” the woman replied. “I will be brief. Who are you?”

“I believe I am the late heiress, Anastasia Romanov.” Anya replied. Her voice shook with her uncertainty. Scolding Dmitry for tricking her certainly didn’t help her to come off as convincing. “The youngest daughter of Nicholas Romanov.”

“Spare me my family history,” Marie snapped. “I had to live it, and I don’t care to relive it with a strange and confused young woman.”

Anya’s heart sank. “My Nana would never be so cruel,” she said softly. 

“I am old and impatient. Kindness has become a luxury.” Marie’s face was solemn with age. She did not frown. She did not smile. 

Anya wrung her hands as she looked at Marie. She hadn’t imagined the woman to be so stern, though she supposed losing your entire family in a car accident could change a person to be bitter and cruel.

“Who was my favorite assistant?” Marie asked as she paced with only the clack of her cane between them. 

“You didn’t have one, you said none of them could do the job right and dismissed them,” Anya replied. 

“That was a trick question,” Marie said shortly.

“You bought me a dress once,” Anya said softly. 

“A generic enough statement,” Marie rolled her eyes. 

“For a special occasion,” Anya continued. “You bought me and my sisters dresses every year—for this gala! And mine was always blue—you said the blue brought out my eyes,”

“I see your young man did a careful job teaching you.”

Anya bit her lip as she looked at Marie. “Why don’t you want me to be her?” Anya cried. She felt tears welling in her eyes. 

“I have found solace in my bitterness. It doesn’t disappoint me. But you Anastasias always do.”

Anya felt a tear roll down her cheek. “Maybe I won’t disappoint you.”

“What was your mother’s position at her company before she was courted by your father?”

“I don’t know!” Anya cried. “She was just Mamma to me! She was Mamma to me and my sisters and Alexei!”

She sobbed as she shied away from the old woman. 

“You Anastasias always cry,” Marie rolled her eyes. “It will do you no good!”

“Perhaps if you were not so cruel—” Anya cried. 

Marie softened. “Your young man told me you were not part of his scheme,” she said softly. 

“He’s right, I wasn’t!” Anya cried. 

“He says he thinks you might actually be my granddaughter, and you’ve come to believe it yourself.”

“He’s right,” Anya replied. The words burned on her tongue how even after everything she had been through with him, she was still admitting he was right. “But I can’t be her unless you recognize me.”

“You can’t be anyone unless you first recognize yourself,” Marie replied. She turned and looked at Anya to examine her.

Anya’s shoulders dropped, “I know.”

“I will ask you one more time, be very careful how you answer, who are you?”

Anya was silent as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I-I don’t know anymore,” Anya shook her head. “Where I thought I had found answers, now all I have is more questions. Who are you?”

“I am an old woman who remembers nothing the way it was and everything as it should have been,” Marie said solemnly. 

“Do you remember the last time you saw Anastasia?” Anya asked. 

“I didn’t know it was the last time! We never know which goodbye is the last,” Marie’s eyes were glassy as she spoke. 

“It… it was just before the winter ball, you had dropped off our gowns for the ball. And you gave me a music box—” Anya’s brow knit as the memory grew clearer. “It played a song.”

Anya began to hum the tune from the music box Dmitry had given her. 

Marie listened to her with wide eyes. 

“ _Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember, and a song someone sings, once upon a December,_ ” Anya sang.

Marie looked at her and her brow softened. 

Anya closed her eyes as she tried to remember, “You told me to hold it tight and not to share it with my sisters. It was like our little secret.”

Tears rolled down Marie’s cheeks as she smiled. “Anastasia! My precious Anastasia! Where have you been? What took you so long?”

“It doesn’t matter! I’m here now!” Anya sobbed as Marie embraced her. 

Through the glass of the window, Dmitry peered at the pair of women. His curiosity got the better of him, and he had left Vlad and Lily alone to check on Anya. She had been gone for quite some time, and he was afraid she had left altogether. 

As he watched the old woman embrace Anya, his heart sank. Vlad was right.

“You’re too late,” Marie mused. 

“It’s never too late to come home, Nana,” Anya held onto Marie. 

“Anastasia,” Marie mused as she held Anya while she sobbed into her chest. 

* * *

“Vlad, we have to go,” Dmitry hurried back into the parlor.

“Where?” Vlad asked. 

“She has accepted Anya as Anastasia,” Dmitry said as he frowned. 

Vlad’s eyes lit up as he grinned at Lily. 

“She found her!” Lily smiled. 

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Vlad asked. 

Dmitry turned and offered a grin, “Yes, I’m glad Anya found her family.”

Vlad watched him carefully as the smile disappeared. Dmitry was disappointed and Vlad knew this heartbreak was coming. 

Lily got up to find Marie and Anya, and Dmitry looked like he would rather go for the evening.

* * *

The next day was a whirlwind of dress fittings, meeting with friends of Marie’s, and saying yes and no to people asking her questions. 

Anya stared at herself in the full-length mirror of her grandmother’s apartment, watching her new gown sparkle in the light. Her hair was pinned up tightly, and she looked back at a face she barely recognized. 

“The car will be here any minute!” her grandmother warned her. 

“Coming, Nana!” Anya called back. 

Her shoulders dropped as she stared at herself in the mirror. She found her family, but why didn’t it feel like she had found the home she had been searching for? 

She sighed and grabbed her purse as she followed her grandmother to the car. 

As the car drove to the location her grandmother had arranged for her to meet the press, Anya was silent. She gazed out the window at the city that never knew her name. In the brief moment before she would be introduced to the public, Anya held onto her final moments as Anya, the girl who worked at Celeste’s Home Decor. 

“Now the press is going to want to ask you many questions,” Marie said softly. 

“I know,” Anya replied solemnly. “I don’t have answers for them, but I will try to answer them.”

The car rolled to a stop outside a building. 

“Where is your young man who took you to the gala?” Marie asked. 

“Dmitry? He’s not my young man, Nana,” Anya replied. She was annoyed to even think of him. When she was ready to return to the hotel after the gala to gather her things, Lily had said Dmitry had left. 

“Oh? After he refused the reward money, I thought to myself how lovely my Anastasia found a man of heart, not of money.”

Anya’s head snapped up and she looked at her grandmother, “Dmitry refused the reward?” 

“He said knowing he had reunited you with your family for the holiday was enough for him. He has made this the happiest holiday of my life. Make sure it is the happiest of yours, as well. Remember, you will always have me, no matter what you decide.”

“Of course I would choose you, Nana,” Anya reassured her. 

Anya got out of the car and helped her grandmother. 

“You will always have me, Anastasia,” Marie reassured her. “But before you walk in that press conference, I want you to make sure you are choosing what will make you happy.”

Anya nodded. 

Marie walked into the building, leaving Anya alone on the sidewalk. She took a step toward the door. She paused, her hand on the door handle. 

Snow started to fall. Anya turned back as she thought of Dmitry. It felt wrong that he wasn’t by her side here. After all, he was the one who had gotten her here in the first place.

She turned to look behind her. They were only a couple blocks from the Pont Alexandre III. Her heart pounded in her chest as she turned back. She picked up the edge of her skirt as she started to run through the snow. 

Anya slowed as she found herself back at the bridge she had set foot on the day they had arrived in Paris. A single figure was standing alone on the bridge in the snow. The low lamp light illuminated his features. 

She gasped and picked up her skirt to hurry to him.

He stared out into the city. “If you ever see me from a limousine, don’t wave, don’t smile,” he mused. “I don’t want to be in love with someone I can’t have for the rest of my life.”

“Dmitry,” Anya said softly. 

“Don’t you have some fancy press conference to go to? Vlad was on his way with Lily to somewhere or other.” Dmitry replied without looking at her. 

“I came here, to thank you,” Anya replied. 

“To thank me?” Dmitry laughed. “What for?”

“For reuniting me with my Nana and my family,” Anya replied.

“You don’t need to thank me, I nearly screwed it all up for you,” Dmitry shook his head. “You should get on to that press conference, or whatever, they’re all waiting for you.”

“I chose to come here,” Anya said firmly. 

Dmitry turned to look at her. He was surprised by her appearance. She was dressed in a fancy floor length dress, her hair was done and her makeup was done for the occasion. She looked least like the Anya he had fallen in love with, and most like Anastasia, who he had come to realize he didn’t know at all.

He turned away from her. Anya stood beside him and gazed over the city she thought she would only see in her dreams. 

He was solemn as he looked over the city he had once hoped would make his dreams a reality. He had severely miscalculated it would turn out this way. 

“Goodbye, Anya,” he broke his silence as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets and started across the bridge. 

“Dmitry!” Anya called after him. 

He continued across the bridge as if he had not heard her. 

“I always dreamed my first kiss would be with a handsome prince in Paris,” Anya said as she followed him across the bridge. 

Dmitry turned back to look at her, “I’m not a prince, Anya.”

“God, you’re the only person I know who’s more stubborn than me,” Anya muttered. “Anastasia Romanov would beg to disagree, Dima.”

His skin prickled as she called him Dima. She was making this harder than she needed to. 

“Anya, you don’t get it,” Dmitry sighed. “People like me don’t exist in your world.”

Anya’s brow knit as she stomped up to him in the snow. She only measured up to about his shoulder, but it didn’t stop her from reaching up to pull him down to her level. 

Her fingers held his jaw, and she pressed her lips to his. 

Dmitry’s eyes widened in his surprise and he froze. But as he realized what she was doing, his shoulders relaxed, and her wrapped his arms around her.

Anya gently pulled away, and Dmitry’s lip curled into a stupid grin. She shivered in the snow, and he had only come to that she was wearing a beautiful dress in the cold without a proper coat. 

He shrugged his coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders. A sweater would be enough for him. 

“Where are we going next?” Anya asked. 

“Aren’t you going back?” Dmitry asked. 

“No,” Anya replied softly as she gazed across the bridge. 

“Why… me?” Dmitry asked as he followed her gaze. 

“When I was standing in Nana’s apartment, I was looking at this gown, my hair, my face, and realized I didn’t recognize myself. I had everything I had ever dreamed of, and it still didn’t feel like home,” Anya replied. 

Dmitry offered her his arm and she gladly accepted it. 

“Nothing felt more like home than spending the holiday with you,”

Dmitry drew in a sharp breath as he looked at her. 

“After everything…?”

“I think what may have started as a scheme turned into something more for you too, Dima.”

“Let’s get you inside and into something more comfortable,” Dmitry laughed as he leaned over to kiss her forehead. 

Anya smiled as they walked together. Dmitry paused and scooped under her legs to carry her and Anya let out a yelp as he lifted her. “Dima!” 

“You can’t walk in those shoes!”

“Excuse me, I ran here in them!” Anya protested. She squirmed in his grip to try to free herself “Put me down!”

“Very well, princess,” Dmitry smiled as Anya tried to free her leg from his grip. Dmitry’s arm slipped and she slid from his grip. Anya yelped, and he quickly grabbed her under her arms and helped her back to her feet. 

Anya laughed as she pulled his coat back around her shoulders. His hand lingered in hers and he held her hand up above her head. Anya twirled around in the snow. 

Dmitry pulled her in close and Anya stood on her toes to trace his jawline. He inhaled sharply at her touch. She pressed her lips to his as if to reassure him she was choosing him. 

“I would choose spending every holiday with you over this dress and these jewels,” Anya breathed as she held his jaw. 

He smiled against her lips and kissed her again, to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

“This has been the best holiday, Dima,” Anya said softly as she held his hand. 

“I’ll take that as a challenge for next year,” He grinned and brought her hand to his lips to place a kiss. 

As they walked along the street in Paris, Anya skipped and twirled with him, as if dancing to a song only they could hear. He smiled and laughed as he watched her dance, and he knew, though he was sure his heart had known for much longer, he wanted to spend every holiday after this one with her. 


End file.
